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What I Believe

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 18:24:51 GMT

Here is my own personal credo:

I believe in one God, who is God over all, infinite and omniscient.

I believe God is genderless, but for my purposes I will refer to God as him.

I believe that God created the universe and everything in it.

I believe that God created me in his image, although not necessarily a literal flesh and blood image, rather the ability to think and reason and choose.

I believe that God loves me, not because of who I am, but because of who he is. I have done and can do nothing to earn or deserve his love, it is freely given.

I believe God desires to be in a relationship with me and has instilled in me the desire to be in a relationship with him.

I believe that humankind rebelled against God and that a separation occurred. Our relationship with God was broken.

I believe that throughout history God has communicated with humankind through various messengers.

I believe that Jesus is unique among God’s messengers in that he was God incarnate, and was sent to be the one through whose perfect life, sacrificial death, and triumph over death, restoration of the broken relationship caused by humankind’s rebellion can occur.

I believe that God continues to communicate with humankind through the Holy Spirit and other messengers.

I believe God wishes us to continue to seek after him and know him and to be open to his messages and messengers.

I believe that God is love, and that the opposite of God is hate.

I believe God wishes us to fight against hate as expressed by all forms of evil, injustice, and oppression.

I believe that God has a plan or a path for each of us, but that no two plans or paths are perfectly identical, because no two humans are identical.

I believe that just because our paths are different, it does not mean that one is right and the other is wrong.

I believe there is no “magic formula” for knowing God, but that he honors all who have a sincere desire to seek and know him.

I believe I can never in this life fully comprehend the nature of God. I can know part, and you can know part, but none of us knows in full.

I believe there is a life beyond what we know and understand on earth, where all paths come together, where all knowledge will be joined, where understanding will be in full, and where all who have sought after God will find him.

Interview With God

Mon, 27 Apr 2009 17:24:31 GMT

You have probably seen this before, I know I have. But recently a friend sent it to me again in an e-mail, and I was struck anew by it's profound message. I hope you can take the time to watch it, even if you have seen it before. Even if you don't believe. It's worth 4 minutes out of your day.

"The Speed of Dark", a book review

Thu, 26 Feb 2009 17:06:05 GMT

An utterly fascinating look inside the mind of an autistic person. "The Speed of Dark" by Elizabeth Moon, is set in the near future. Lou Arrendale, the book's protagonist, is an autistic man nearing 40. He was born in an era where early intervention methods made it possible for him to live a near normal life, while not actually "curing" his autism. He is one of the last of his "kind", as those just slightly younger than he were given a treatment in-utero to "fix" the genetic abnormality identified as the cause of autism. Lou struggles with the idea of being "not normal" in a world of "normals'. He is near genius in his intelligence, but significantly impaired in his ability to interact socially. When the pharmaceutical company he works for develops an experimental treatment designed to re-wire his brain through a combination of genetic engineering and nanotechnology, with the potential to elimate his autism, he and his fellow autistic co-workers find themselves wondering who and what they will become if they agree to submit themselves as volunteer subjects for the procedure. Will it change the very essence of who they are?

The story raises many moral, philosophical, and ethical questions about how society views not only autistic people, but anyone who is considered "different", for whatever reason. At the core of many of these issues is the question: if we truly love and accept people for who they are, why is it necessary for them to change, especially if they are also happy with who they are?

Lou is a very likeable character. He reacts to his environment in interesting ways. I especially enjoyed the way he was able to internalize music (classical) to adapt to his moods or to regulate them when he felt himself becoming anxious. His special ability in pattern recognition is a common trait among autistic people, but I was intrigued by the descriptions of the many ways he uses pattern recognition to help him cope with the world and his interactions with it. He is endlessly fascinated by the idea of darkness and whether or not it has a speed (light has a speed, why not dark?) "The Speed of Dark" becomes a metaphor for other things - discrimination, ignorance, death - basically anything unknown or misunderstood. Lou prefers his environment to be ordered, predictable, routine - known - but through the course of the book he encounters situations that he cannot control, things that challenge his rhythms and routines and force him to change in order to adapt and understand. He learns that change is inevitable, and that we must make the choice to accept or resist the change, even if the result is unknown.

Most of the story is told from Lou's point of view, but occasionally the perspective changes to that of another character. I did not find this to be at all difficult to follow. I liked being inside Lou's mind the best, but the occasional shift of perspective helped with the overall flow and development of the story line.

I would put this book near the top of the list of books I have read in the past year. I would highly reccommend it for readers who enjoy character-driven vs. plot-driven stories. It is not action and adventure, but more an exploration of culture and ethics. This book won the 2004 Nebula Award for best novel. The Nebula Award is given annually by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. The author, Elizabeth Moon, is better known as a science fiction writer, and the story is set in the near future where science and society have made some significant advances, but this is not your typical sci-fi story, so even those who usually don't care for science fiction could enjoy reading "The Speed of Dark". My only complaint with the book is that I was not 100% satisfied with the ending. Because the story and Lou's character were developed in such detail, I found the ending too abrupt. I was so invested in Lou Arrendale I wanted more details, and they simply weren't there. On the other hand, it does have a great "last line", one of the best of any of the books I have read lately. However, you will have to read the book yourself if you want to find out what it is!

Christmas Music

Fri, 19 Dec 2008 18:50:33 GMT

I know -- you can't believe I am back, can you? My real life has been keeping me so busy I haven't had much time for my cyber-life -- unless you count facebook. Facebook is easy -- beguilingly easy. Blogging takes a little more of my attention, my concentration. Lately I have been finding my focus too divided for blogging -- really blogging. Today's blog isn't a real blog, either, in my opinion. What it is is a collection of videos taken over the past week that highlight some of the musical accomplishments of my family. The first is a video of my chorale. Last weekend we presented our Christmas concert 4 times, once each on Thursday, Friday and Saturday evenings, and a fourth concert on Saturday afternoon. I had to miss the afternoon concert on Saturday - more about that in a bit. My son took the video I have posted here on my digital camera. It's not so great to look at, he wasn't sitting in the greatest spot for viewing, but I hope you will enjoy the audio -- it's about the music, after all. You might be able to spot me in the front row, under the director's left arm -- I go in and out of view as he moves around.

The next video is of my youngest son's choir. As I have mentioned before, he sings in a boy's choir. There are six choirs altogether in the organization -- a prep choir (ages 4-7), training choir (boys ages 8 and up who are just coming into the organization), Voyager Choir (boys ages 8 & up who have completed the training program and are ready to perform publicly), Nordic Choir (boys ages 8-13, the National Touring Choir) and the Viking Choir (boys ages 9-14, the International Touring Choir) and the Alumni Choir (former Choirboys who have gone through a voice change). Isaac is in the Nordic Choir. All of the choirs presented a Christmas program last Saturday afternoon. The reason I missed my afternoon chorale concert was because I was attending Isaac's Choirboy concert. In this video they sing a new arrangement of "Hark the Herald Angels Sing". It is challenging for little boys because of the time signature/rhythms -- they are not typical. I think their conductor told me once it is 7/8 time, but I'd have to look at the music to be certain of that, it doesn't feel like 7/8 to me, but it's not a time signature I am overly familiar with myself!

And finally, a video of the high school Concert Choir that Grant and Mark sing in. This song is called "Betelehemu". It is a Nigerian Carol, sung acapella, with the exception of some percussion. Here is the translation of the text:

We are glad that we have a Father to trust.

We are glad that we have a Father to rely upon.

Where was Jesus born?

Where was He born?

Bethlehem, the city of wonder.

That is where He was born for sure.

Praise, praise, praise be to Him.

We thank Thee, we thank Thee, we thank Thee for this day.

Gracious Father.

Praise, praise, praise be to Thee.

Merciful Father.

There you have it -- a sample of what I have been enjoying recently. Music is just one of the things that really makes Christmas special for me. Of course, if you have read my blog much at all, you know that music speaks to me in every season. These are the things that make Christmas "Christmas" for me: Music, it fills my mind, my heart, my soul with joyous celebration; Christmas trees, with twinkling lights that look like stars and ornaments brought out year after year that remind us of Christmases past; lefse, a Norwegian tradition passed down to me by my mother; Christmas cards, letters, and pictures that arrive in my mailbox - in this age of instant electronic communication I like knowing that others will take the time to remember me in this old-fashioned way, and even moreso, I love remembering others with my own offering; Family, for it is during this season of peace and love and fellowship that we gather and experience peace and harmony and love with the people who know us best.

Thanks for listening! Merry Christmas!

Buildings and Legacies

Wed, 29 Oct 2008 14:15:42 GMT

I have long been haunted by the concept that material things have more "substance" than our lives do -- that the things we own or create, the places we build and live in --endure longer than our fragile human bodies. As human beings, our lives on earth are so evanescent, vanishing in the blink of an eye. And yet, I believe we are eternal beings of soul and energy, so that the things we do and the lives we live, in our fleeting existence here on earth, have eternal significance. Some people create great works of art, some write epic stories, and some build great structures -- landmarks, even. Some architecture is more humble, built more for function than form, as depicted by my photos for today. I wonder about the people who built these...who were they? For myself, I will not create any great masterpieces. I hope my legacy lives on in the lives of my children and in the mercy, love, and grace I have shown towards others in my own brief journey through life.

Now for the pictures.

An old museum school not far from my house. This one-room schoolhouse was still in use as recently as 1971. Current 3rd graders in our school district still attend school here one week out of the year, to experience first-hand what "old-fashioned" school was like.

A close-up of the bell tower.

I love this gnarly old tree outside on the school grounds.

Near the old schoolhouse is a "Pioneer" cabin, a reconstruction of the type of home early settler's in this area may have lived in.

Peeking into the cabin's interior.

Highlighting a few details of the cabin --

The rain barrel:

The door handle:

The peak of the roof against a brilliant October-blue sky:

I'm not sure what this is, but it was outside a shed near the cabin...an old water heater, possibly? Or an early attempt at robotics?

From old school to new -- this is at the local college campus, one of the newer buildings in the area.

Also on the college campus -- these retaining walls are a perfect blend of form and function.

A nearby country church. Something about these buildings stirs me as deeply as the great cathedrals. Perhaps because I see in these humble but beautiful structures a reflection of the simple but solid faith I feel in the depths of my soul.

I leave you with this song from Nicole Nordeman, which sums up my thoughts about the kind of legacy I hope to leave behind me.

The Bridges of (NOT Madison) County

Thu, 23 Oct 2008 14:34:21 GMT

Some more pictures from my recent outings.....

This old bridge a few miles north of my home is scheduled for demolition. I thought I should take some pictures before it is gone. It was closed 35 years ago when a new bridge was constructed adjacent to it. It was left standing in the hopes that it would be used as part of a trail, but those plans never developed. It has deteriorated to the point that it is now considered a safety hazard, but at one point it was listed on the county's historical register. It's "unofficial" name is the "Oxbow" bridge.

This moss was growing on the concrete bridge deck, so it really is sadly neglected, and fears about it's safety are probably quite justified. It's sad (but not unusual) that something so beautiful can also be so dangerous.

This next bridge is called the "high" bridge. It is an old wooden structure that crosses over the railroad tracks. It looks to me as if it has suffered some fire damage at some point, but it is still open to restricted traffic (load limits apply). I have driven over it safely a number of times, but after taking a closer look at it, I'm not sure I feel safe crossing it anymore!

The third old bridge (there are many more in my county, but I am drawn to the old ones), the "park" bridge. This particular bridge crosses the river that runs through town next to the city park, hence it's name. I've taken pictures of it before, in the wintertime. I'll post them as well (for comparison).

And finally -- proof that I was wearing totally inappropriate footware for my impromptu photo excursion -- cute, but really, REALLY inappropriate (especially for tromping around in ditches, which I did a lot of, particularly near the high bridge). I should have gone home and changed when I decided to take pictures, but home was "out of the way", so I just kept schlepping along...muttering about my stupid shoes the entire time!

Tomorrow's photographic subject will be "Buildings" I hope you come back!

"One of the hardest things in life is knowing which bridges to burn, and which to build." Unknown

Colors of October

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 14:32:19 GMT

The fall color peak has come and gone here in Minnesota. Luckily, I captured some of nature's finest on display earlier in the month.

The dew was still on this fallen leaf when I took this close-up picture.

More frosty fallen leaves--

The oak trees are usually the last to start changing. I know when their colors start to show that winter cannot be far behind.

A maple tree ablaze -- no color adjustments on this picture at all -- it really was this brilliant, and the sky really was this blue!

I love the quality of late afternoon sunlight -- the way it illuminates the leaves is spectacular!

The early morning light can be quite interesting as well....

Fall color is not just confined to leaves -- this apple's bright red splash against the still-green leaves on the tree captured my eye.

Another leaf decorated by sparkling dewdrops.

This is the same picture I began this post with, edited for a different look.

This majestic maple tree stands in my very own yard. It's one of my favorite trees.

More berry-red color. The fruits of fall -- although we will leave these flowering crabapple berries for the birds!

I may have gotten carried away with my photo editing software on this picture. I wanted to emphasize the way the red sumac seemed to POP against the background foliage, but it ended up a little dark and moody looking.

From the "Land of Sky-Blue Waters"

Taking a walk in the park -- I wish you could have SMELLED what I did -- that sweet, musky, fertile, earth smell, it was intoxicating!

I was driving along a country road and these grasses were in the ditch -- the way the sun was hitting them they looked like they were made of glass, or ice. It stopped me in my tracks, literally. I had to get out and take a picture (I was glad I had my camera handy!) The pictures I took just don't do them justice.

Do you see the snowflakes? Since they looked so icy and snowy, I couldn't resist adding this little touch, lol! And again -- I love the sunlight!

I know that this is considered a weed, and I wouldn't want it growing in my lawn, but out where I found it it was like a diamond in the rough.

Even more beautiful up close....

That is all for today. More pictures tomorrow!

The Pink House

Fri, 17 Oct 2008 21:40:31 GMT

The old couple who lived here were my grandparents. The house is gone – obviously. The two story structure remains fixed in my childhood memory for its sunny porches, for its wood burning stove in the kitchen, for its grate in the floor of the upstairs bedroom that let warm air tinged with the the scent of woodsmoke and strong coffee brewing waft up from the main floor in the early morning hours......and for its color. My grandfather, a jack-of-all-trades (one of which included house painting), chose to paint his own home pink. Not just a fade into the background, pale pink. Oh no – his house was flamingo pink! Not only was his house pink, but his car was pink as well. And in his pocket he always carried those round, chalky pink mints, which he freely passed out to grandchildren and kids on his school bus route. All this was long before Mary Kay Ash developed her pink cosmetic empire. My salt-of-the-earth Grandpa just plain liked pink.

Before he earned his living painting houses and driving school bus, Grandpa owned and operated the local creamery. Dairy farmers used to bring their milk in daily, whereupon Grandpa and his two or three employees would separate the cream, churn the butter, prepare the buttermilk, and make the ice cream. Deliveries were made in the pink car. It was a real family business; Grandma kept the books, and my Dad and his younger brother earned 5 cents a day helping to churn butter and make deliveries. Grandpa and Grandma survived the Great Depression on the proceeds of the creamery, which oftentimes came in the form of a bushel of apples or a dozen eggs, because cold hard cash was so hard to come by. My Dad, who grew from a lad of 5 to a teenager during the depression, says he never even realized that times were tough. It was just the way life was in those days.

Next to the house Grandpa always put in a huge garden. He grew potatoes and carrots, strawberries, corn, and beans -- both green and yellow. I don’t remember that he ever grew tomatoes or lettuce or broccoli or cauliflower or cabbage. He was a simple man in many ways, given to simple ways and simple tastes. He had spent a year in the trenches of France during WWI and treated each day as a gift. For her part, Grandma grew hollyhocks and asparagus. Her asparagus patch was by the shed out back. Her rule was to stop cutting the asparagus on the 4^th of July. I don’t suppose she ever broke that rule. Asparagus simmered in milk and butter, with lots of saltine crackers crumbled into the milky mixture was one of her specialties, along with “Minnesota” potatoes – potatoes chopped fine and pan fried in lard with a generous seasoning of salt and pepper. She never exercised a day in her life yet she outlived my active grandpa by a quarter of a century. You would think with her sedentary lifestyle and with all of the fat and cholesterol she used in her cooking, her heart and arteries would have rebelled at a much younger age, but somehow she managed to survive until a month shy of her 106^th birthday. That was a decade ago.

Summers at my grandparent’s house meant long hours playing outdoors. In addition to his garden, Grandpa also grew Christmas trees. Grandpa and Dad used to go out to the “tree farm” on hot summer days to trim the trees, pruning and shaping them with a few well-placed snips, preparing them for a December harvest. I would sometimes come along and play pioneer games amongst the shady trees while they worked, imagining myself a little Laura Ingalls living in the Big Woods. Other days were spent at the lake. To get to the swimming beach we would ride our Schwinn one-speed bikes -- with the baskets in front loaded with paper bag lunches -- down the country road into town, through the alley behind the old Davis place, and across the street. My little sister and I, and sometimes a cousin or two, would swim like fish for an entire day. My brother, on the other hand, would often spend his entire day fishing in the lake, bringing home fresh sunfish, northern, or walleye that he would clean and give to Grandma to prepare for our supper. Somewhere in my parent’s photo album back home is a fuzzy Polaroid of my brother and my cousin holding a nice stringer of fish, my proud Grandpa looking on.

After Grandpa died, Grandma lived alone in the pink house. Before long she had her sons repaint it a more “respectable” white. I can only assume she allowed the house to be pink as a concession to my Grandpa and her great love for him. When she died, the house, with all of its memories, was put up for sale. Eventually the new owners had it torn down. The garden and the asparagus patch gave way to weeds and wild grasses. The once-tended acres of trees grew far too big to decorate anyone’s living room. Today, I don’t even know who owns the land that my imagination and I once roamed freely across.

It always nicks my heart when I drive past this place now, not just because of the loss created by my Grandparent’s absence, but also because of how quickly time can erase our material existence. I doubt another passerby would even give it a second glance. Where there is emptiness, we easily turn away and forget. I am like a weary desert sojourner, seeing a shimmering, sun-induced mirage…images of a home, of a history, of human beings. I cup these images in my hand and carry them – precious -- like water. Even the nothingness of memory has weight. And I realize that the space I inhabit will someday fade. I, too, will return to field-swept breezes, overgrown trees and grasses, dark, fertile earth. My existence on earth will become someone else's precious images, faded snapshots of the life I lived and the love I shared.

With a sudden start I return to the present. I turn my Chevy Malibu back onto the county road and drive on, feeling slightly lost in the in-between. Past. Present. Loss. Progress. Extinction. Vitality. History. Potential.

Rumor has it that the town is expanding in this direction. The land has become valuable. Someday soon there will be plans to subdivide it, to build efficient homes sporting nondescript vinyl siding, landscaped lawns, and paved driveways leading to three-car attached garages that house mini-vans and hybrid cars. Perhaps the new owners will never wonder about who came before them. They will be caught up in the living of their own lives, with the making of their own history. There will be lawns to mow, snow to shovel, kids to raise, groceries to buy, wages to earn. They will be working hard, trying to make a good life for themselves, a better life for their children. But I’m pretty sure none of their houses or cars will be flamingo pink.

New Beginnings

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 20:07:37 GMT

Subtitle: Summer's End

Sub-Subtitle: Where Have I Been for the Past Two Weeks?

New Beginnings....Summer's End. Seems like a bit of a contradiction there, doesn't it? The apparent paradox is best summed up by a phrase from the song Closing Time, by the band Semisonic; "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end". That is how I feel about this time of year. Summer is winding down, but I see new beginnings all around. The flowers and plants are setting seed pods, readying for a new generation of life. The nighttime air has a certain crispness to it that sends a shiver down my spine but adds spring to my step. I feel invigorated by the lightness I feel in the air -- leaving behind the heavy, torpid humidity of summer days and nights.

Last week I was at Choirboy Music Camp with three of my sons. For our family, choir camp always marks the end of the summer activities. Once camp is over our focus turns to preparpations for school. Mark and Grant both came to camp as junior counselors, having "graduated" from being choirboys (due to voice change). Isaac is still in the choir and attended as a camper. I was on the kitchen staff. It was Isaac's second year as a camper and my third year as a staffer. Traditionally, camp is where the music staff (the choir directors) make their decisions about who will be placed in which choirs. Within the choir structure, there are 7 different choirs: Prep Choir for the very youngest singers (ages 4 or 5 through age 7), Training Choir for boys ages 8 and up who are just entering the program and need to learn the basics of singing (breathing, note reading, tonal memory, etc.), Resident Choir for boys who have completed the basic requirements to move beyond the training program and be considered for a performing/touring choir (they perform in local concerts). This year (because of the growth of the choir program) a new choir has been added, called the Voyager Choir. Boys in this choir will perform in local concerts and will take two or three short tours lasting 2-4 days. They will not venture far beyond the state of Minnesota and some neighboring states. The two previously existing touring choirs are the Nordic Choir (nationally touring) and the Viking Choir (internationally touring). The Nordic Choir typically takes about a 3 week tour and have been to every one of the 48 contiguous states during the choir's 30+ year history. The Viking Choir tours abroad and throughout the US, traveling to such places as Sweden, Germany, Denmark, Australia, New Zealand, Ireland, Austria, France, Scotland, Norway, Canada, Mexico, etc.. Their tours can last from 4 to 5 weeks.

The turnover rate in a boys choir is quite high, as every year boys grow bigger, older, and more mature. Once a boy's voice changes (as happened with Mark and Grant) they can no longer sing in the "Boys" choir, but they can participate in the Alumni Choir. Most boys experience their voice change at around age 14, and often this coincides with the time they are entering high school with all of it's distractions, demands, and choices for extra-curricular activities. The retention rate for the Alumni Choir is fairly low. Out of the 10 to 15 boys that graduate from the choir each year, 2 or 3 may become regular members of the Alumni Choir. Neither of my boys have chosen to sing in the alumni choir, although they have remained connected to the choir through their camp counseling and helping at other choir events throughout the year, and they are both active in our high school music programs, participating in both choir and band, as well as the annual school musical.

Losing so many boys every year means that other boys have a chance to move into those open spots. Isaac has been in the choir program for 3 years, beginning in the prep choir. This year he was selected for the Nordic Choir. This is a huge step for him -- a new beginning, if you will. It will be the first time he will be going on tour. Understand -- I will not be going along on the tour. Only paid choir staff accompany the boys on their tours -- those staff including the choir director, accompanist, prefect, and often the choir founder (who doubles as the bus driver). Isaac is both excited and scared about this new chapter of his choirboy adventure. Excited because he will be learning and growing and improving as a choirboy, but scared because he has never been away from his home and family for such a long time. I am trying to reassure him that in the 10 months between now and tour time, he will grow not only musically, but also emotionally, so that the separation will not be a daunting as it seems today. Both of his older brothers have been on these long tours and can also reassure him that the tours are fun-filled and adventure-packed -- so much so that homesickness will be the furthest thing from his mind (well.....almost). I am also reminding Isaac that for the duration of the tour, his home is the tour bus and his family is the choir. They will look after him with as much love and care as I would (well.....almost).

After that long, drawn-out explanation, I hope you still have time to take a look at some pictures and watch some videos that I took at camp. It was an exhausting week (for me), but so very rewarding. I consider it a priviledge to be able to come to camp and be around this exceptionally talented, energetic, and well-behaved group of boys. Here are some glimpses of what our week was like:

The Main Lodge. The boys rehearse their music in this building, and the kitchen and dining hall are in the lower level. I spent on average 14 hours a day in that kitchen!

When I wasn't working in the kitchen I was hanging out ove at Eagleview -- just across the road and up the hill a bit from the main lodge.

Here I am hard at work, demonstrating how to prepare toast for 110 people in under 10 minutes! (We have a toaster that continuously cycles the bread through and we melt the butter and "paint" it on.

One of the other cooks in our pantry. We also had a wlk-in refrigerator and freezer stocked with food.

Relaxing on the porch of Eagleview. We usually got about an hour break in the afternoon to put our feet up, while the boys were busy with their "activities" (everything besides eating, sleeping, and singing!)

The activities included (I don't have pictures of everything)

Sailing;

Swimming;

(While swimming the boys would always try to manage to throw the counselor off the raft. The poor counselors didn't stand a chance, although they were bigger, they were usually outnumbered by about 20 to 1!)

Crafts;

Rocket building;

Other waterfront activities;

Paddleboats,

kayaks, fishing, canoes, waterbikes,

Archery;

BB guns (well supervised, of course), group games (basketball, soccer, wiffle ball, frisbee golf etc.)

Indoor games: foosball, ping pong, bumper pool.

Then there is the MUSIC!!!!

The Viking Choir rehearses -- these boys find out at the beginning of camp that they have been selected for this choir.

The rest of the boys practice together and find out at the end of the week which choir they have been placed in.

Most of them end up being selected for the Nordic Choir. The rest are placed in the newly formed Voyager Choir. All of them are experienced singers and will be performing and touring to some extent in the upcoming year.

A "Nordic" choir rehearsal:

Announcement time:

Isaac waits in nervous anticipation.

Hurray! His name is called!!!

Waiting to see who else will be with him in the Nordic Choir.

Is these tears of relief or panic? Probably a little of both.

The first official gathering of the new Nordic Choir.

These four boys have formed a special bond of friendship through the past year together in the Resident Choir. They are all happy that they are moving to the Nordic Choir, and will be together strengthen their bonds of friendship and support each other through the demands and difficulties of this new choir.

Presenting the brand new Nordic choir in their first public performance. Their sound is beginning to come together after only 4 days of rehearsal. Some of these boys are singing in harmony for the first time.

Here is a bit of what more experienced boys can do with 4 days of rehearsal time. Although this is sung in unison, don't be fooled into thinking it is easy!

New beginnings......tonight we attend our first regular Nordic Choir rehearsal of the season. And so it goes.

Thoughts on Turning 50

Wed, 06 Aug 2008 14:45:10 GMT

Well, friends, I made it. I've hit the half-century mark. I can't say I am excited, exactly, to be here, but really -- why not? Life is good, and I have been blessed in my life with love, health, friends, and family for 50 years now. How could that not make me happy? Every day brings me something new to be thankful for. In days I am 18,280 days old. If I had only one thing to be thankful for for each day of life, it would be quite a list -- but there are many things that bring me to a sense of gratitude every single day. My list stretches miles long.

Being 50 is something that I am adjusting to. I know it's only a number. I know that we are all getting older at the very same rate, that I am no older or younger than you than I was yesterday, or last month, or 10 years ago. In fact, the older I get, the less the "age difference" seems to matter between me and my friends -- some of whom are older and some who are younger. (Some quite a bit older or younger.) Among my closest friends I can name some who are nearing 60 and others who are barely past 30. Age is not the most important determining factor in who is or is not my friend. Shared interests, experiences, values -- some sort of commonality-- is what binds me to another person. It has little to do with the number of sunrises and sunsets we have seen or the number of breaths drawn since birth, when speaking literally. It's more about how these measures of life are experienced that matters to me. Someone who never looks up at the sky with a sense of wonder and imagination, who never takes a deep breath, holds it in and slowly lets it out in a mindful way, being thankful for the ability to breath and smell and for the scent of life in that breath (be it lilacs or baby poop) -- that person could never understand me in a way that would allow us to become true friends.

In celebration of the 50^th anniversary of my birth, I have decided to come up with my “Top 50” list – a list of things that make me happy to be who I am and where I am in this journey through life. These are in no particular order.

1. My parents – without them I wouldn’t be here. They have loved me and guided me my whole life. They gave me the proverbial “roots and wings” needed to become a happy, functional adult and parent to my own children. They grounded in the Word of God and instilled in me a sense of wonder in the world, both physical and spiritual.

2. My husband. God raised up a wonderful man for me. He is not perfect, but we are a good fit, perfect compliments to each other. Our teamwork as parents is uncanny at times. Where I am weak, he is strong and vice versa. I love him with all my heart, even when he is driving me crazy. J

3. My children. Every day they amaze and delight me. Sometimes they frustrate me. They are an awesome responsibility and gift from God. I am their biggest fan, in everything they do. I support them in following whatever dreams God gives to them.

4. My sisters. What a great gift that they are not only part of my family, but also some of my very best friends.

5. My brother. He is the strongest person I know, my inspiration. The way he has dealt with adversity in his life is the example I turn to whenever I face it in mine. His faith is incredible, his humor invincible.

6. Music. Without it I couldn’t dance through life. Sometimes it fires me up, sometimes it calms me down. It colors my world.

7. Flowers. I love their colors, their scents, their variety. I love them in greenhouses, in florist shops, in my yard, on my table, or growing wild in the ditch by the side of the road. Who can look at a flower and not feel better?

8. Coffee. I love to wake up to the aroma of coffee brewing. I love that first, freshly brewed cup in the morning. I have many happy memories that are tied up with coffee, from waking up early in the morning at my Grandma’s house when I was a little girl, to late nights at college, to morning chats with my girlfriends, to coffee in bed delivered by my husband – his special way of showing me he loves me.

9. Babies. It doesn’t matter to me what species the babies are – puppies, kitties, bunnies, birds, or butterflies. Of course, I love people babies the best (especially my own), but the miracle of birth and the innocence of babies never fails to bring me hope.

10. Swings. They make me feel like I can fly. They rock me like a little child. No matter how old I am, when I see a swingset, I can’t resist getting on and soaring through the air, the higher the better! A porch swing or a lawn swing invites me to slow down, relax, contemplate.

11. Girlfriends. They do for me what my husband cannot. They understand what it means to be a woman. With them I can share the joys and frustrations of being female.

12. Books. They are my window into worlds both real and imagined that I could never get to on my own. I read for knowledge and I read for pleasure. I read to grow.

13. Computers. What a wonderful tool for communication. What a helpful instrument for organization. A modern marvel – probably the most revolutionary invention of my lifetime.

14. Cameras. How else could you so perfectly capture a memory?

15. Trees. They provide oxygen for us to breath. They provide shade on a hot summer day. They provide shelter for lots of nature’s little creatures. They provide wood for homes and furniture and beautiful works of art. They provide limbs to hang swings from (see #10).

16. Chocolate. Dark, white, milk – I love it in all of it’s many varieties. Mmmmmm! Leave the nuts out, please!

17. Hugs. They speak when words cannot.

18. Christmas. A time to celebrate the giving and receiving of God’s greatest gift to us by giving and receiving gifts with those we love most. The greatest gift of Christmas, aside from Jesus, is the gift of the memories and traditions we make with our families and friends. It is a time of year that brings people together. So many of my favorite things are wrapped up in the traditions of Christmas that I cannot help but love it!

19. Sunsets and sunrises. There is just something magical about them, I can never see one and not be moved. They are a reminder to me that each day is a gift.

20. The night sky. I love to watch the moon in all of it’s phases. I love the way the stars sparkle and wink. I love to watch for shooting stars. I love to identify familiar constellations.

21. Campfires. The perfect way to enjoy the night sky, usually in the company of family and/or good friends. Often involves chocolate, in the form of s’mores.

22. Camping. A way to reconnect with nature, a simpler way of life. Reminds me not to take my “things” too seriously.

23. My pets. They add another dimension of caring to my life.

24. Jigsaw puzzles. At my house, a jigsaw puzzle is a people magnet. I can’t resist a jigsaw puzzle. If one is on the table, I have to stop and work on it. I am not alone – whenever I am working on one, others stop to see if they can place a piece or two (or more!). Conversation usually ensues.

25. Clothes, sheets, towels, dried on the clothesline. They smell so fresh and clean!

26. My washing machine. Washing clothes by hand is one chore I’m really grateful I don’t have to do. My washing machine is probably the household appliance I use most often and am most thankful for.

27. Freedom and the U.S.A. Sometimes I complain about our government and taxes and the way our country is run, but I have to be thankful that I can complain without fear of retribution. I can worship where and how I want to, and have a variety of good, solid educational options and opportunities for my children and for myself. So many people live in places where life is so harsh, where women are oppressed, where commodities are scarce, disease is rampant, healthcare & education unavailable and freedom non-existent. Life is fragile and precious. To have been born in and to live in a land of freedom and abundance is something I should never take for granted.

28. Sore muscles. They remind me that I have a body that functions well (most of the time) and allows me to do some good, hard work. Exercise and physical labor always creates in me a sense of accomplishment.

29. A handwritten letter. They are becoming so rare, that when I get one, I cherish it. It means someone has taken time out their own busy life for me.

30. Water. I can swim in it, bathe in it, clean my clothes and my dishes in it. I can drink it and be refreshed by it. I can freeze it and use it to cool myself down or sooth my aches and pains. The sound of water – the babbling brook, the gentle rain, the lapping of waves on a lakeshore or the crashing of ocean waves, are as pleasant to me as a symphony. Water is miraculous and life-giving.

31. My husband’s hands. He makes a living with his hands, and provides well for our family. They are strong, but gentle. He gives me wonderful back and foot rubs with them! When he holds my hand in his, I know how much he loves me.

32. Singing. Akin to music (# 6), but it is how I participate and become active in the gift of music. I find a sense of connection in singing. Singing brings me joy.

33. The local food co-op. I can get the very best bread, granola, and produce, all from local sources. It is clean, friendly, and cozy. So much nicer than the mega-markets.

34. Home-grown tomatoes. Store-bought ones really can’t compare. I love them best in BLT’s, in salads, or just sliced with salt and pepper. (My husband prefers sugar on his.)

35. Watching my children perform. It doesn’t matter what they are doing. It can be a musical concert, a sporting event, a school play, or they can even just be playing guitar hero – I simply love watching them learn and master a skill. Isaac learned to ride a bike this summer, and I get so much pleasure watching him race up and down the cul-de-sac. Little miracles.

36. Birkenstock sandals. The most comfortable footwear I own. (And I own a lot of footwear!)

37. No-sort recycling. The best thing since sliced bread. Truly.

38. My iPod. I love having almost my entire music library available in this tiny little device. I’m still amazed that something so small can hold so much music!

39. Caller ID. I don’t have to talk to those pesky tele-marketers. (No offense to you if you are one, just know I won’t answer if you call me!)

40. Cell phones. It gives me much peace of mind to know I can always reach my children (because they always carry their phones, as opposed to my husband who only carries his sometimes, and then usually forgets to turn it on!—it’s a generational thing.) I am also glad to have my own to call for help if ever I am in need of it. The constant text messaging my kids do at times does drive me crazy though.

41. Snow days. They are few and far between, even here in Minnesota, but they are so fun just because they are so rare. Nothing beats having an unexpected free day, especially when you can play out in the new snow – make snow angels, build snowmen, and dig snow forts.

42. Eating out. Sometimes it’s nice not to have to cook and clean-up.

43. Worship. Food for my soul.

44. Yoga pants – as comfortable as sweatpants, but so much more attractive and flattering! It is not necessary to do yoga to wear them (although yoga can be quite satisfying also).

45. Magnifying mirrors, reading glasses, bifocals. I find that for my 50-year-old eyes, these come in really handy!

46. Early morning walks in the summer. The sun is up, the air is cool(er), the birds are singing, the bugs are….well, let’s not mention the bugs. Where I live I get to see a lot of wildlife, but the bugs are not my favorite.

47. Prayer. Quiet, contemplative, comforting, reassuring. Sometimes I talk to God, sometimes I listen for His response.

48. Church. My community of faith.

49. Service. The ways in which I give back for all that I have been given.

50. God. Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer, Comforter, Guide, Friend. All I have comes from Him, all I do should be for Him. Without Him, the rest of my list is pretty pointless. I live by His amazing grace.

Me at 2

Me at 5

Me at 50

Shalom, my friends! May you be as blessed in your life as I am in mine!

Leah